I'm not fooling anyone with this message
A fool indeed, striking out more times than a hand count
With our obvious laceration and wasted potential, would you burn with me? Would you burn back into me?
I'm a broken record in a two-toned room
Pining for vicinity, tossing and turning over enervation, being absent from the bed-side
I could sense the universe in you
A constellation almost aligned
But doomed beneath the principle of curse
An implausible denouement, hallowing calculations
I swore I was permanent and said I was never coming home
With you, impossible,
And indestructible